


Meum Velle

by probablynotadalek



Series: Probably Not Ficlets [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18120803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablynotadalek/pseuds/probablynotadalek
Summary: Dean, Cas, and a few strangers take part in a magic ritual.





	Meum Velle

**Author's Note:**

> It's been six years since I last took Latin but I'm pretty sure Meum Velle means 'my wishes'. The rest of the Latin here is unimportant and poor grammar so don't bother.

“Oh, yeah, you really told her, didn’t you?” Dean said sarcastically from where he was tied to the chair.

“I’m not very good at comebacks.” Cas said from his place on a similar chair.

“That’s an understatement.”

“But neither are you.”

“Now, that’s just rude.”

“Excuse me?” The witch who was kneeling on the floor between them asked. “Trying to start a ritual involving your eternal souls, here.”

“Oh, don’t mind us.” Dean said.

“I’m trying.” She mumbled as he returned to her work.

“What is the purpose of this ritual?” Castiel asked.

“We’re going to make a really big cake.” She said sarcastically as she finished drawing a circle in white chalk. “And then we’re going to share it with starving orphans.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Dean said. “But really, what are we doing here?”

“Dying, hopefully.” She stood up and wiped her hands on her legs, leaving white streaks across her jeans. “Okay, now we’re ready.” She walked over to a third chair on the edge of the circle and removed the bag from the occupant’s head. Underneath was a man who looked scared witless with a gag in his mouth, which the witch also removed.

“Who are you? What do you want with me? What did you mean by ritual?” He asked frantically.

“Shut up, Gerald.” The witch moved into the middle of the circle. “Alright, I need all of you to just sit. Scream if you feel like it.”

“Hey,” Dean said. “You think you could grant a guy one last request and-”

“We are doing this now.” She said, taking a breath.

“Spiritus mortuorum inpertiatur et nominis,” A gust of wind rushed up from the circle, blowing out the candles.

“Ego appeho.” The white lines of the circle started to glow, illuminating the room in a ghostly white.

"Tolle horum animas homicidae.” The three men around the circle all felt it at the same time, felt their souls being taken from their bodies.

“Sacrificium istud quod adduxi tibi.” The witch’s eyes began to glow in the same white light as the circle as the souls of the three men swirled in the wind above her head

“Et re et dilacerant fabricam,” the wind rushed more quickly, the witch raised her hands above her head.

“Et flexanimo,” She was yelling now.

“Meum velle!” She twisted her hands above her head, the wind stopped, and nothing happened.

A look of confusion swept over her face. “Meum velle.” She repeated, but still nothing.

“Meum velle?” She said, dropping her hands.

“Is something supposed to be happening?” Dean asked.

“Yes!” She walked to a table on the other end of the room and picked up a pile of yellowed papers. She walked back into the circle. "The circle looks right.” She switched papers. “And I’ve got the bones, and the blood, and the cloth.” She pointed at things in the metal pan in the circle. “And I said everything correctly. Which leaves you three.” She pointed at Cas. “Youve killed angels, right?”

“Yes.” He said, cautiously.

She turned to Dean. “And you’ve killed demons?”

“I have.”

She looked at Gerald. “And you’ve killed people?”

“No.”

“What?”

“I’ve never killed anyone.”

“But you were in jail for murder.”

“I was wrongfully accused.”

“Oh my god.” The witch ran a hand across her face. “Fine then. Have your souls back.” She started walking out of the circle. “You all can go.” She undid their bonds with a wave of her hand. “We’ll just try this again next month.”


End file.
